


I Bare My Skin and I Count My Sins

by Little_Red92



Series: Even The Stars They Burn [2]
Category: Jak and Daxter
Genre: F/M, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Loss of Virginity, Romance, Vaginal Fingering, damas lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 18:38:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19025626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Red92/pseuds/Little_Red92
Summary: Sequel to I want to see the sunrise and your sinsJak watches the rise and fall of the waves, the sound turning back time and setting him down on a bed of green grass. Blades tickle at bare skin, evening air smelling of jasmine. The ocean is calm under the setting sun, the tide rising high under the sway of the moon. Darkness falls across the land, peaceful and cooling after the warm summer's day. Time stands still, allowing Jak to linger on a different cliff, gaze out a different world.***In the aftermath of the war, Jak makes a home in Spargus, hoping that Keira will want to build a life there beside him.





	I Bare My Skin and I Count My Sins

Jak watches the rise and fall of the waves, the sound turning back time and setting him down on a bed of green grass. Blades tickle at bare skin, evening air smelling of jasmine. The ocean is calm under the setting sun, the tide rising high under the sway of the moon. Darkness falls across the land, peaceful and cooling after the warm summer's day. Time stands still, allowing Jak to linger on a different cliff, gaze out a different world.

The pendulum swings, the memory floats away in pieces, the wild sea of Spargus rushing in, the dry heat that will cool to a crisp chill following. There is no lush green grass to be seen, no jungles or quaint village either. There's only rock and sand and a small city built by blood and stone, that is violent and wild, filled with battle-scarred warriors, mystical monks and ruled by the fierce king Damas. There are many mysteries about the desert king, many tales and stories to be told about the former ruler of Haven City.

Damas was a survivor, even sentenced to death he refused to die, finding a place at the edge of the raging seas to build a home for himself and those banished with him. It took a certain kind of person to survive in the harsh conditions of the wastelands, it took iron will and a stubbornness to carve out a life in the middle of a dangerous, blistering hot desert that was crawling with marauders and Metal Heads. Damas was a legend, an heir of the great Mar himself and the father Jak never knew.

He was still trying to wrap his head around that part.

Jak’s life has been torn apart, stuck together then torn apart again so many times over the last few years. He’d suffered torment and loss, been beaten and betrayed, treated like a villain and tossed out to die. The list of grievances is long and unjust, but the anger has burnt out, swept away on desert winds and soothed by the kind words of a king that saw past the monster and towering walls. Damas saw the warrior within, comforted the scared child and helped tame the angry, resentful boy. Damas acted like a father long before Veger revealed the truth, saw not just a hero or a soldier but a soul in need of healing and guidance.

If it weren’t for Damas, if it weren’t for Haven throwing him into the jaws of death, then Jak never would have found his way again. He’d been lost for so long, walking a path that wasn’t meant for him, one that could have led to self-destruction. Samos always said things happened for a reason, and Jak doesn't think that’s true for everything, life can be unforgiving and cruel at times, with no sense, rhyme or reason to the madness, but sometimes fate tugs and nudges, decides to be kind even if at first it seems like everything is coming undone. 

Damas encouraged Jak, fanned the embers back into sparks and awoke hope, bravery and ambition. He was never going to be the same, the care-free, innocent boy from Sandover was gone forever, but out of the ashes rose someone new, someone Jak was proud to be. Not a lion-hearted hero or rebel soldier, but a wise warrior that learnt to forgive, who was strong enough to slay his demons, look his abuser in the eye and show _him_ that he didn’t win.

All these little changes, the release of anger, unpacking of trauma and blessing of light eco allowed him to heal. In the barren lands of the Wasteland, under a blistering sun, Jak rebuilt himself. Found new pieces to stitch into the places where gaping holes once were, found new friends and passions. He was a true Wastelander, battle-scarred and wise. Well wiser than he was at the start. And in that wisdom arose the embers of a neglected love.

There had been an ache in his chest for months, pain spreading day after day. Jak tried ignoring it, pretending it was just the heat, just not enough sleep but the ache squeezed his heart, tugging free dreams of a curious, genius green-eyed girl. Keira's face came to him in the late hours of the night, memories of another life playing through his mind like clips from an old movie edges torn and ripped by time. Bit by bit, between exploring temples and growing attached to the vast land, longing consumed Jak's heart.

He put on a good show, managed to fit into this wild, gun-toting city, sauntered around with a grin and a tough attitude, but in the moments between arena fights, and artefact runs he’d think of the girl he grew up beside. At night, while Daxter slept, he’d lie awake and think of Keira, hope to the Precursors she was safe, that one day he’d get to see her again, tell her he’s sorry he forgot to love her. Time went on, Jak went through the motions, did his best to fit and learnt to live like a Wastelander, Daxter kept him hopeful and cheerful. Then one day, out of the blue Ashelin showed up seeking their help.

She handed him the jet board, said Keira sent it, and his heart raced, leapt with relief and joy that was quickly shattered by Ashelin pleading for him to return to the city, using the seal of Mar against him out desperation. Rooted in his anger, walls not yet knocked down, Jak refused. Ashelin left, and Jak threw the amulet to the ground, clutching at the jet-board like a lifeline. Daxter plucked the ruby pendant from the sand, turning it over in his hands. Jak went to holster the jet-board when he spotted a piece of paper fluttering in the wind. Jak snatched it from the board, turning it over to reveal Keira's cursive writing.

Things between them had been strained for some time, all the could haves snuffed out, their loved stomped out by cruel twists of fate and their own doing. Jak built walls, pushed Keira away time and time again. He strayed into the dark and Keira tried to follow, tried to help, to save him from himself, from his past, from banishment, but he wouldn't allow her too. They broke and fell apart, became strangers, ships passing in the night.

But there was still a tether, still something to hold onto, to fight for and it was held right here in his fingertips.

_Hope you're being careful Jak._

_I miss you._

She didn’t ask him to come back, to save the city, though she could have, he’d walk through fire for her, but Keira would never ask him to return to the place that turned against him. She would let him go if that meant he was safe, could find happiness. Jak couldn't live with himself if let Haven City get destroyed, and there was no greater happiness then having Keira at his side. He doesn't return just for Keira, but she's a driving force, calls to him on the wind and guides him home. When he sees her again, standing quietly at her father’s side behind a shield wall, it feels like he can finally breathe.

It took weeks to reach Headquarters, and once Jak did the words he wanted to say became lodged in his throat, behind the guilt and fear of rejection, fear that was too much distance and damage between them. The city was on the brink of destruction, under constant attack and the brief moments he saw Keira were fleeting. Then one night all hell broke loose, and Keira was outside the city, cut off from them, and all Jak couldn't think of was getting to her.

Fate had separated them over and over, Jak put distance between them, isolating himself in misery, building a fortress to guard his fragile heart. Under a sky set ablaze, surrounded by a city teetering on ruins, Jak found Keira, seconds from death. He raced towards her, heart pounding in his head, fingers trembling on the trigger, scream held in a gasoline throat. Jak could have lost her, could have been a fraction of a second too late. The bullets would have pierced right through her chest, shattering bones and shredding her heart. Keira would be dead before she even hit the ground. A beautiful, kind and gentle soul ripped violently from this world.

Jak feared he’d never reach her in time, but he did. The death bots fell, bodies shredded by bullets and their whirlwind adventure began.

That terrifying, heart-stopping moment was the beginning of their journey back to one another.

A strong breeze rises from the ocean, carrying away the anxious twist of Jak’s gut, the gruesome images of what could have been. It cools heat flushed skin, drying beads of sweat and carries with it a hint of fish cooking on a fire. The sand and stone city comes alive at night, the citizens gather outside the arena, lit fires and pour strong smelling alcohol that burns like gasoline on the way down.  At night they tell tales of lost spirits wandering the deserts, speak of magic and myths and as the heat of the day ebbed, and the drinks went down, they begin to sing and dance.

Spargus became a lively, festive place under the moon. All those tough exteriors falling away to reveal cracked tooth smiles, eyes crinkled with laughter and souls sunburnt and damage but still full of love and kindness. Spargus almost felt like home in those moments, in the haze of smoke and alcohol, Jak could fool himself into thinking he was back in Sandover. But Sandover was in the past, the present was right here, was cooling sand and a city willing to welcome their lost heir.

The present was a beautiful, brave, compassionate girl that he almost lost.

Jak gets to his feet, dusting off a fine layer of sand before hurrying towards the garage. Keira will be arriving shortly. In the past month, they've barely had any time to spend alone together. The world might have been saved but Haven City was in shambles, sectors without power, others without water, streets littered with bodies and debris. There was much work to be done, Haven would not be fully rebuilt for years, but Keira had earned herself a break and Jak had promised to show her Spargus.

Damas was also waiting impatiently to meet her. He was also eagerly awaiting another answer, one Jak was not ready to do deal with. Damas had asked him to stay, to take his rightful place as heir to Spargus. The title sat heavy on his shoulders, an ill-fitting crown weighing him down. He didn't want a kingdom, didn't wish to sit upon a throne, didn't know if he wanted to stay in Spargus, build a life here or return to Haven and the tiny, drab apartment above the Naughty Ottsel.

Jak used to have his life all mapped out before he went to Misty Island, before Gol and Maia and travelling five hundred years to a world full of monsters and wicked men. Under the golden sun, at the tender age of fifteen, Jak imagined sailing the seas like his uncle, with Daxter as his first mate and Keira as the inventor. They’d travel to far off lands, collect lost treasures, unearth secrets and learn the truth about the Precursors. They would return to Sandover with tales to tell and exotic fruits and meats for everyone to feast on. Jak would marry Keira on Geyser Rock, and they'd set sail again, for a short while, then return and start a family.

Jak envisioned a glittering future full of wonder and adventure, excitement and hope, but something dark lingered below the surface, something jagged and terrifying gathered in the shadows and promised that that future would never come. The memory of Kor stayed buried in the depths of his minds, clawing its way out in the late hours of the night, leaving him drenched in sweat and grasping at twisted sheets. Fate had different plans for him, had a lonely, painful future awaiting an innocent child who thought life would only ever bring joyous things.

All that was over now. Destiny was fulfilled, and unless the Precursors had more installed for him, then it was time Jak grabbed hold of the life he dreamt of. Or something resembling it anyway. He wanted to set aside the title of hero, soldier, weapon. He was Jak again, was free of pain and anger, was still stubborn and a little reckless, but there was hope burning bright alongside the light eco, love filling his heart with possibilities. There were uncertainties ahead, Damas's question lingered in the back of his mind, a record stuck on repeat, but all Jak cared about as he dashed through the streets was the girl waiting for him.

It's been a very long time since Jak’s felt this happy since he was able to walk around with a bounce in his step and joy glowing brightly in his chest. He’s been to hell back, has a body covered with scars and a head full of haunting memories. He’d built walls, wrapped his fragile heart in ice, buried the heroic boy from Sandover. The broken young man who emerged from prison didn’t believe in glittery dreams, had no hope or golden fire left.

Revenge was all he wanted, anger and fear pushing him away from the boy he once was.

Those days feel like a lifetime ago, healing was painful and Godawful, took so Goddamn long, but he found the way back to light. _To love_. And it makes him giddy, makes him tilt his head back and laugh a little louder at Daxter’s jokes, has him once more envisioning a life with Keira. They’ve only been officially dating a month, but he’s wasted so much time, is tired of the distance between them. Haven isn't that far away, but he wants her by his side, wants to show her the temples and the ruins of a lost civilisation. Wants to take to the sea and chart a map to all those places left unexplored.

They deserve a glittery, golden future full of adventure and joy.

For tonight, he’ll settle for a feast around the fire and a long-awaited introduction to his father.

The towering scrap metal gates slowly slid open, wild winds blowing in as sandstorm gathers in the distance a sandstorm over the mountain ridge. The air train lands, kicking up a dust cloud that is quickly carried away by the fierce winds. Jak rushes towards it, eager to see Keira, to embrace and kiss her, even it had only done so the other day. Jak managed to briefly sneak off to Haven three nights ago to see Keira, though his arrival didn’t go unnoticed and their reunion was short-lived. Torn needed help hunting down a small herd of Metal Heads, and though Jak had intended this night to go differently, he couldn’t turn him away.

Keira accompanied them; armed with her new crossbow and eco whip, she was a force to be reckoned with. It wasn’t exactly romantic, but Jak could get to use to fighting by Keira’s side. Already they worked like a well-oiled machine, moving in perfect harmony like they Precursors had always meant for them to fight aside each other. Though now he knows who the Precursors were, it seems strange to imagine them mapping out a destiny just for them. But fate wasn't always thought of as the Precursors, they were tales of three sisters who spun destiny like spiders spun silk webs. 

None of that really matters anymore, because Jak doesn’t care what fate or destiny or the Gods have planned for him. He’s been strung along, been used and abused and left out to die. He’s making a stand, no more pain and suffering. He has fought and fought for this world, has lost so much, had innocents taken, s _tolen_ , and enough is enough. This is where he'll grow, where he'll embed roots and hope and carve out a life even if it's different, dimmer then what he once dreamt off.

He finally got the girl. Is on the cusp of a happy ending and no God or man will take this from him.

The wind picks up seed, sand swirls in the air, biting at exposed skin. Keira emerges, running the short distance to him and leaping into his waiting arms. He catches her with ease, twirling them around as her lips find his. She tastes like coffee and vanilla, smells of motor oil and rose petals and her fingers leave a trailing blaze of heavenly fire. The world vanishes, there is no sand and stone city or endless desert, no Precursors or prophecies.

It’s just the two of them under a sky full of burning stars.

**~~X~~**

The violent winds eventually force Jak and Keira apart, he takes her hand, leading her back to safety. The giant mechanical doors roll sluggishly open, revealing the dimly lit garage. Keira’s eyes trace over every vehicle with great interest, mouth hanging ajar like she’s stumbled upon a cove of treasure. Jak watches her flitter about, thrilled to see the curious girl rise, can see the wheels turning, ideas forming, and he knows by tomorrow she’ll have several ways to improve each car. He’s not sure Kleiver will allow Keira near any of his vehicles, but Jak is more than willing to give her the tough puppy to take apart.

Jak readjust the duffle bag on his shoulders, he's not sure what Keira has in there, but it's damn heavy. He steers her away from the cars and towards the entrance of the city, promising that they will return tomorrow and that she can tinker to heart's content once they've visited the temple. Eyes full of delight, excitement, she rises on tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss to his freshly shaven cheek. Jak could whisk her back to the weatherworn hut that has become his home, lock the doors, blow out the candles and pull her under the covers. Yearns to shed their clothes, spend until sunrise learning every inch of Keira's body.

Wants to cherish her for all the times he never could.

But his father is waiting, and Keira is practically skipping through the cobblestoned streets, taking in the city with an almost childlike wonder. It’s truly a sight to behold. Spargus is a reminder to never give up, to fight even when all hope is lost. Spargus is a sanctuary for the misfits and rebels, a home for the lost and abandoned, a second chance for the broken. Jak doesn't feel at home in Haven anymore, never truly did, but he tried to fit in, followed the rules, bent and contorted until he was close to shattering. Daxter found them a cobweb riddled, creaky-floored apartment next door to the Ottsel for them to live in. Jak decorated it with tropical plants and cluttered the shelves with books and their racing trophies, strung up lanterns and hung paintings on the walls.

It was cosy, full of brightly coloured things and for a while it was a safe place, was something so very close to home but there was always an axe above Jak's head, a warning stirring below his ribs. Haven felt like an oversized sweater that Jak would never grow into, the seams fixed, unable to unravelled to create a better size. Spargus was the perfect fit, Jak didn't have to change into something he was not, the sand kingdom and its king welcomed him as he was. His dark alter ego wasn't feared, his light incarnation revered, he wasn't seen as a dangerous eco-freak or forced into the role of hero. He was a young man with a troubled past and scars that could tell a hundred harrowing tales.

He was just like everyone else.

Keira, who is a streak of bright colour gliding gracefully through the night, is not quite these things and Jak isn't sure if asking her to uproot her life and move here is the right thing to do. But Gods does he want her too. The Precursors gave them a second chance, and Jak won't throw it away. He wants to build a life here with the father he never knew, and the girl he has loved and lost. It's a lot to ask, it's a lot to lose, but their love is true, has weathered every storm only to come out stronger.

A long time ago they fell apart, seams ripping as miles upon miles stretched out between. Heartbreak, betrayal, jealous turned their words acid. Anger, trauma, fear making them lash out, twisting their love into something unrecognisable. Erol manipulated them from the shadows, planting seeds of doubt, digging in claws that spread poison. It took a long time to recover from the damage _he_ caused, took an age for the wounds to heal, for Jak to realise that Keira had been used against him.

Erol left scars with his white-tooth crooked smile and used words that cut like knives, he dismantled an already fragile girl and rebuilt her to his liking, leaving frayed edges and broken pieces. He praised and chastised, took hold of Keira’s light, filled her head with doubt and fears, pretended to be a knight in shining armour when in truth he was an evil, vile man who took pretty, innocent people just to break. He broke Jak so beautifully, left him with scars and nightmares. With fears that felt so big, so _terrifying_ that at times they’d steal the very air from his lungs.

Erol hurt them both, left marks that will last a lifetime, but he’s gone, is scrap and metal on the ocean floor, is a ghost laid to rest. Keira is beautifully alive, glittering and vibrant under an indigo night sky filled with twinkling stars that promise a brighter, better future. Keira is right here, is looking at him through emerald eyes that glisten with a thousand pretty lights, is smiling and moving towards him. Jak opens his arms, _his heart_ and let’s fear drift away. The words are on the tip of his tongue, ready to spring free into the cooling night air when approaching footsteps have them scurrying off.

“Damas has been wonderin’ where you were.” Kleiver’s gruff voice cuts sharply into the moment.

Fingers twitch, tension pulling muscles taught as irritation spreads like ants under Jak's skin. Gradually, he turns to face Kleiver, hand coming to rest on a jutted-out hip as his lips flatten into a tight-lipped smile. "Well he can wonder no more," Jak deadpanned, then begrudgingly introduced Keira. He doesn't like the way Kleiver is looking at her, it's all snarl and judgement, teetering on creepy. Jak's accustomed to feeling Kleiver's eyes burn holes into his back is used to the unfriendly remarks and brash attitude. He was raised to be polite though so with a warning hidden in his tone Jak says, "Kleiver this my girlfriend, Keira," Jak glances between them, noticing that Keira is lingering in the shadows, he gently pulls her into the light, snug against his side before adding. "Kleiver is Spargus's mechanic."

“I’m more than that,” he proclaimed, jerking a dirty thumb at his chest, “I’m the top gunner and best racer you’ll see out on those dunes.”

Jak's teeth sink into his tongue, biting back a retort. There's no reason to point out that Kleiver is no longer the top racer or gunner, it would only wound his pride further, and Jak doesn't need to give the older Wastelander any more reasons to be hostile. Glancing at Keira, Jak sees she isn't fooled one bit by Kleiver's bragging. She catches Jak gaze, there is a flicker of mischief in the green depths of her eyes, present in the overly polite smile which graces her face.

“Those are some impressive looking vehicles you’ve got.” Keira steps forwards, offering her hand without bothering with pleasantries. “I’m pretty good with tools and know my way around a zoomer.” Her hand is engulfed in Kleiver's, he shakes it so vigorously Keira winces. Wastelanders are rough and tough, Keira seems so breakable standing before the giant, heavily armoured man. Hell, Jak knows Kleiver could shatter his bones with one decent hit, any of the Wastelanders could. He’s lost count of the broken ribs he’s sustained while fighting in the arena. “I’d love to get a look under their hoods at some point,” she continues, not missing a beat, “if you don’t mind that is?”

Kleiver snickered, loaded gaze travelling over Keira’s petite frame, lips curling into a challenging sneer. “Sure, I’d love to see what a pretty little house kitty from the city can do.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Keira’s tone deepens, eyes narrowing in the slightest as anger makes her fingers twitch, but the pleasant smile doesn’t waver. “I did build the very first zoomer, and I am the topic mechanic in Haven City, sought after by all the best races, so I know a little about engines.”

Jak looks at Kleiver in time to see the confidence bleed out of his eyes, that ugly smirk slipping right off his face. Jak smiles smugly, watching him stomp away in a huff, throwing a 'see you there tomorrow' over his shoulder. Keira’s going to make him sorry for that comment.

“You okay?” Jak asked, noticing the rigid set of her shoulders and sharp, shallow breaths.

"Yeah, just..." she exhales loudly, deflating, crestfallen. "I get sick of people like Kleiver making me feel like I have to prove myself."

"Do you want me to punch him?" Jak asked lightly, trying to get a flicker of a smile, hating to see Keira downhearted. Anger twist sharp and hot, jaw clenching at the swell of rage.  Of course, Kleiver would resort to using such a sexist comment to dig under Keira's skin, he's taken every opportunity to make Jak feel inadequate and like an outsider.  He's an ego-fuelled bastard, and Jak has no qualms with breaking his already bent out of shape nose.

Spargus does demand one prove themselves, but Damas doesn’t belittle people if they are unable to fight or hunt. Purpose, _worth_ is found in everyone. Damas may throw a traitor out into the jaws of the desert, but if someone comes back injured, unable to fight again, then they are met with mercy, given a chance to forge a new path. Spargus is truly a place for second chances, and when Damas sees potential, he cultivates it. No skill goes to waste.

"I can handle him,” Keira flashes a smile, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

Jak closes the space between them, cupping her chin in the crook of his fingers, tilting her face up. "You know your brilliant right?" 

Keira blushes, light sparkling back to life in those beautiful jewel green eyes. "You’re not so bad yourself." She leans up and in, capturing his lips in a quick kiss. "You don't have to worry about me, this pretty house kitty has sharp claws and isn't afraid to use them.”

“Oh, trust me, I know you can handle yourself,” Jak grins down at her, admiring her fierceness, "but I'm always here if you need me." 

Keira sighs, arms lacing around his neck, chin resting on his chest, right above his racing heart. She stares up at him through thick lashes, smiling contently. "How did I get so lucky?"

"I ask myself that every day." He drops a kiss to her forehead, then steps back, taking her hand into his. Gods he is longing to get her back to the sandstone shack wants to find a quiet part of the night just for them. But Damas is waiting, and they've delayed long enough. The night is still young, is cooling down and heating up with fires and festive spirits. It's there's for the taking, could be filled with song, dance and wine, with stolen glances and heated kisses in the shadows.

The night is full of endless possibilities, and anything could happen before sunrise. 

“C’ mon.” Jak’s tugs her forward, leading her towards the arena, heart beating bright, chest full of excitement. “We better not keep the king waiting.” 

Damas is thrilled to be to meeting Keira, Jak has spoken of her ingenuity and bravery, told his father about their past, assured Damas that he grew up happy and safe. The stories were bittersweet to tell, Jak knew no matter how golden and care-free his childhood was it would always lead to his darkest days. Damas lost an innocent child and was returned a haunted young man. Jak could regale him with tales of exploring the jungle, tell him of summers spent swimming in the crystal waters at Geyser Rock and of nights counting stars, but it would never make up for the time lost.

But there was time to make new memories, to reform the bond that was so cruelly broken. After being separated by time itself, growing up and growing older, they were finally reunited. Jak was home. Almost. It was missing a piece, a heartbeat, a girl that loved him through thick and thin and planted herself in harm’s way just to keep him safe. Home was in her arms, reflected in the pretty light of her eyes. He hopes she’ll stay, will at least consider it, though if she didn’t, if moving to a wild city full of gritty Wastelanders wasn’t what she wanted, Jak would respect that.

They’d find a way to make it work, Haven City wasn’t that far away after all.

Now that their paths were aligned, tied together by the fabric of the universe itself, Jak knew distance could no longer keep them apart.

***

Jak spots Damas at the edge of the crowd, deep in conversation with one of the young warriors in training. Damas joins his people every night for dinner around the fires, will greet the children with friendly smiles and talk with their parents and help serve the food, the young and old always given the first helpings. He may be the king, but he doesn't hold himself above anyone like Praxis did, no one is a second-class citizen in Spargus. Sandover lived by the same values, everybody pitched in, helped one another out in times of need.

Haven was driven by greed under the Baron’s reign, governed by crime lords and ruthless guards. The streets were hazardous, roads full of gaping holes and busted water pipes, neighbourhoods crumbling to dust, to ash. The people were driven by desperation, going mad as the concrete walls pressed in. There was violence at every turn, people vanished without a trace, swept away by the Krimson Guards, stolen in the dead of night.

Damas doesn't take kindly to thieves, to those who wish to bring pain and torment. He can be savage at times, Spargus law is strict, swift and often bloody, but those who live here respect Damas and look to him for guidance, trust in his judgement. It took some getting used to, Daxter found it barbaric, longed to return to Haven, which came so close to being worth its namesake. But Jak felt safer here than he ever did in Haven, there weren’t fearful looks awaiting him at every turn, no cruel names following him as he walked through the streets.

Spargus was free of torment, was sun-drenched and hot, just how Jak liked it. He could go about his day without receiving hateful glares, could sleep without bloodstained memories working free, turning into twisted nightmares. He hoped it could enchant Keira with its breathtaking ocean views, hauntingly beautiful songs, friendly but ragged faces. He kept his gaze trained on her as they weaved through the crowd gathered outside the arena, watching her eyes burn in the light of the fires, glisten with wonder and memories of another life.

“What do you think?” he asked, grabbing her elbow to tug her out of the path of two rowdy kids.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, smile as bright as the flames gracing her lovely face. “Reminds me of Sandover.”

"Yeah, that's what I like about it." He pulls her close, arm slinging low around her waist. He could ask now, while she's awe-struck, spellbound by the ocean and the glittering night sky, but he knows Keira well. She is caught up in the magic of the night, is lulled by the cool breeze and the warmth of the fire. Under the deserts spell, she'd say yes. For him, she'd say yes. Jak doesn't' want that. They've both had far too many choices taken from them; he'll give her time to experience the Wasteland for what it is: unrelenting days of heat, violent and dangerous. The desert may have ancient temples and stunning landscapes, but it’s a brutal place to live.

“Jak, there you are!” Pecker squawks, wings flapping furiously in the air, startling him back to the night. “Your father’s waiting for you, he’s not a patient man, you know.”

“Alright, I’m coming.” Jak waves him away brusquely. “Can’t a guy show his girlfriend around town?”

"Sure, after he sees the king.” Pecker jerks a feathered finger in the arena's direction, through the crowd and haze of smoke Jak can see Damas is now speaking to Seem. “Off you go before he makes me into a feathered hat.”

“Could be a good look for you,” Jak jested, earning a giggle from Keira, who hurried to stifle the laugh when Pecker glared daggers at them.

“You know, I would expect that kind of comment from your orange rodent but not the prince of Spargus!”

Jak winced, jaw tightening against the familiar flare of anger, face twisting into a bitter scowl. Pecker recoils, nervous and sputtering as he flees.

There has been something sharp and dark stirring within, unfurling painfully in his gut, tightening around lungs. Anxious thoughts have spun a mess in his head over the past few days, but he does not wish to chase them, isn’t ready to rip open old wounds or seek out new ones. Eyes flutter shut as he inhales the smoke spiced with herbs and roasting meats. Behind closed lids swirl memories of festive nights in Sandover, when the traders arrived with tales of far off lands and delicious foods from around the world.

Anger exhales in a rush of shaky breath, eyes opening he takes in the sight of the familiar faces gathered around the fire pits, heads tilted back in laughter, lips stained with wine, curled wide in joy. Keira’s staring up at him with a questioning gaze, delicate fingers smoothing the tension from his brow. He catches her slender wrist, bringing it to his lips, soothing her concern with a gentle press of lips to faintly scarred knuckles. Fingers curl in his, nimble and almost as calloused as his own.

“Are you okay?” Keira asked brows pinched in concern. “You look troubled.”

He could lie, say he is fine, smile and fake it, but they’ve come so far and lying now would feel like a step backwards. There are so many things on his minds, questions and worries looping around, a dizzying carousel that he can’t get off. Keira is a focal point, is as solid and steady as the earth beneath their feet. Jak can feel a hurricane press below his ribs, swell and rise in a desperate need to escape, words he can’t quite say teetering on the tip of his tongue.

“We can talk later, Jak.” Keira’s free hand cups his cheek, he leans into the warmth, seeking comfort. “Whenever you’re ready.”

He smiles, grateful that he doesn’t have to fumble and stumble on words that aren’t ready to be spoken. Cresting on a wave of desire, a need to be held, uncaring of the watchful eyes, Jak pulls Keira into his arms, sinking into her embrace. The last tendrils of bitterness float away. Grounded once more, Jak steps back, holding Keira at arm’s length. Hurricane caged, mind clear and focused, Jak turns to relocate his father. He finds violet eyes gazing through the haze of smoke and sea of bodies, there is something warm and bright burning in their depths.

It lures Jak closer, Keira trailing behind.

“Ah, my son,” the king greets, hoarse voice layered with fondness, “it’s nice to see you’ve finally joined us.” There is an air of teasing to his words, lips quirked in the slightest smirk. “And here I thought I’d have to send out a search party to find you.”

“Sorry, I got side-tracked showing Keira around.”

“And what a pleasure it is to finally meet you.” Damas takes her hand, shaking it with the utmost care. “You are just as beautiful as Jak said you were.”

Keira blushes, ducking her head humbly before sweeping her gaze up, addressing Damas with a graceful bow. “It’s an honour to finally meet you, lord Damas, Jak’s told me a lot about you.”

“Please, Damas is fine,” he said, tone laced with a chuckle, “and likewise. I am very eager to hear more about your life in Sandover. Jak says you’re a gifted mechanic?”

“And then some,” Jak praised, shooting her an encouraging grin.

“It’s a passion,” she replied honestly, “I would go mad if I couldn’t tinker away under a hood or bring my inventions to life.”

“We could use someone like you around here,” Damas admitted. “Passion sparks joy and loving what you do inspires great ideas.” Violet eyes turn towards the city, gravelled voice growing pensive. “Spargus isn’t as it used to be… when the Dark Makers attacked, we lost a few clever minds and valued souls.” Damas brings his attention back to Keira, expression hopeful and open. “I do hope you’ll stay long enough to show off some of your talent and maybe help this old king tidy up his ramshackle city.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Keira beamed, practically buzzing with excitement.

“Well, it’s settled then,” Damas straightened, standing tall and proud, “tomorrow we make plans for a better and stronger Spargus, but tonight,” he relaxed, smiling widely and brightly, “we celebrate.”

***

Celebrations in Spargus are no simple affair, they last well into the night, can span over weeks and the return of the lost heir, the reveal of the Precursors and the salvation of the planet is undoubtedly worthy of celebration. The festive spirit has spread through the kingdom, nights are spent drinking wine, taking shots of whiskey that tastes like gasoline and dancing until the sun crests on the horizon. There are no fireworks to be set off or paper lanterns to string up in the streets, there’s no razzle or dazzle in Spargus. They celebrate as rough as they live, singing loudly, drunkenly, their joy as bright as the roaring fires.

Perched atop the stone steps of the arena Jak watches the night unfold from afar. Keira sits with Seem by one of the smaller fires, is captivated by Seem’s every word, transfixed by their hands moving in strange motions as they speak. Her eyes are diamonds in the shadows, sparkling with happiness, body relaxed by wine, smile wide and brilliant. The desert has her under its spell, has charmed her with its dazzling night sky and electric souls. It’s as if fate had carved out a place in this city just for her, had forged the road that led her here. Keira seamlessly fits in with these fierce, rowdy warriors and serene, mystical monks.

A smile graces Jak’s face, chest swelling with warmth _, joy_. He’s not used to feeling like this, fears it will be ripped away, shattered before he can lay a foundation and build upon it. After wars and two years of torture, after all the pain and fighting Jak wants nothing more than is to have a home with the girl he loves. He isn’t ready to commit to one place, still holds tight to the dream of travelling to faraway lands with Daxter on his shoulder and Keira at his side. The world has hidden places waiting to be explored, lost cities waiting to be discovered.

He would love to revisit Snowy Mountain and see if Gol and Maia’s citadel still stands. He’d love to have a home, a place that is his, a safe harbour that will await his, _their_ return. He wants Spargus to be that place, to be the home he comes back too. Jak would also like to get to know Damas as his father, not just his king. _Needs_ to make up for the time that was lost, _stolen_. Damas wishes for him to wear the title of prince, to move into the palace and join the council. It all sounds so glittery and golden, so regal and rigid even though Spargus is not.

There is a flicker of darkness unfurling at the corner of Jak’s mind, doubts and fears reaching out with sharp claws and gnashing teeth. Jak digs blunt fingernails into throbbing temples, eyes closing against the overflow of emotions. Cold settles on his skin, seeping like ice into a fragile heart. A shaky breath escapes into the night air, leaving burning lungs. There is a faint sound of approaching footsteps, soft fingers ghosting across his skin. Hands fall slowly to his lap, eyes opening to find Keira staring down at him, face hidden by the shadows.

“Are you okay, Jak?” she takes a seat next to him, close enough that their knees brush.

Jak sighs, gaze shifting to look out over the kingdom below, his kingdom if he wants it. “Damas wants me to stay here… to take my place has Spargus’s rightful heir.” The words stick to his tongue, feel strange and ill-fitting. “Everyone is celebrating my return but I…” he turns to look back at Keira, she stays quiet, allowing him to find the right words to say. “I don’t think I want that. I’m not a prince. I’m not king material. Hell, I spend most of my time breaking laws not enforcing them.”

Keira shakes her head fondly, reaching out in the dark to take Jak's hand. "Jak, the people, adore you, and Damas isn't going to make you take over the city tomorrow. He’ll teach you how to be a good leader, and for what it’s worth, I think you’d be a wonderful king.”

Something sharp and bitter tugs at Jak's chest, twisting uncomfortably in his gut as frustration crawls under his skin, making teeth clench. Jak doesn't know how to explain what he is feeling, speaking never came easy, words tripped and stumbled, caught like shards of glass in his throat. Silence will not fix this, there is no running from the truth, it follows to the ends of the earth.

“What if I’m not worthy?” Jak’s voice hitches, words jagged as they rise into the air, a storm cloud holding a wealth of pain.

“Jak,” Keira breathes his name, layers it in love and devotion. “You are worthy of so much. You deserve to be happy, to be accepted and seen as Damas son’s, to be a prince.” She takes his face between her palms, touch warm from the fire, chasing away the cold. “You also have a right to just want to be Damas’s son without the title of prince or weight of an entire city on your shoulders.” Delicate fingers traced the curve of his jawline, soothing and calming as the ocean waves lapping against the shore. “And from what I’ve seen of Damas I believe all he wants is for you to be happy.”

Jak leans in, forehead resting against hers, inhaling her sweet, smoky scent.

“He’s not going to throw you out if you’re not ready to become a respectable member of society.” Her words tickle Jak’s lips, bringing a smile to his face. There is a beat, the wind blows, carrying with it a song of sailors and rum. Keira inches back, gaze locking with Jak’s, mouth opening to ask the one thing no one has ever bothered to ask. “What do you want Jak?”

There is a twinge in his chest, breath catching in his throat, mind spinning out possibilities. What does he want? What can he seek and have and hold now the war is won, the world saved. Behind closed lids, there are snapshots of Keira covered in grease, head under the hood of the sand shark. He sees her barefoot on the beach, pictures them watching the sunrise from the temple. He sees them rebuilding Haven City, setting sail across the ocean in search of lost treasures and forgotten places. They build a home here in one of the sandstone shacks, leave roots and a solid foundation to return to.

They live a life free of pain and misery, bright with happiness and love.

The future plays out, and Jak foresees discoveries and adventures, a wedding on a far-off day when they older, kids to tuck into bed at night, who'll ask for tales and fables. Beyond that is grey, unwritten and as Jak exhale, he deflates. Something shifts, something bends, and Jak feels the ugly sense of unworthiness dig its way free, frayed edges catching on the breeze, ready to blow away. He answers Keira with a kiss which says, _I want you, I want you, I want you_ with lips and tongue, with fingers tangling in silky strains of hair.

Jak isn’t ready to wear a crown or a title, has only just emerged from the ashes. Isn't willing to let go of freedom, of _himself_ , but he is ready to be Keira’s, to be Damas’s son and deep down he knows they will not ask for more. Damas only wishes to get to know the child he lost, to fill in those blank spaces with memories. There is a future out of sight, years and years away from this moment and when it arrives Jak might be ready to be a king, but until then he has a girl to kiss and a world to explore.

The midnight wind rolls in from the sea, cool and crisp, snatching up the last threads of unworthiness, carrying it far, far away.

“Let’s go home,” Jak said, word resonating in his chest, making him feel bold, brave and beautifully alive. He helps Keira to her feet, ready to lead her along the shadowed path to the sandstone shack right across from the rocky ocean shore.

“Wait,” Keira pulls him to a stop, “you didn’t tell me what you wanted.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” his gaze swept over her, lips curling into a coquettish grin, letting the desire show.

Keira returns the smile, moving down a step, so she’s level with his eyes. “You’ve got me, Jak-” The words are sealed with a kiss that burns as bright as the stars “-But what do you want?”

“To help rebuild Haven City, to make a home here and get to know my dad.” Arms twin around her slender waist, bringing her in flush against his chest. “To explore the Wasteland and see what else is out there.” He pauses, rolls the words over his tongue before speaking. “I want to build a life with you, I want us to go on adventures and live out the dreams we lost sight of. I want us to be happy and safe.”

“We are, Jak,” Keira said softly, “the war is over, you saved the world, and our dreams are just waiting for us to chase them.” She kisses the tip of his nose, brings delicate fingers up to lace a crown around his neck. “We’ve got all the time in the world to go on grand adventures,” lips brush against his, a taste of what the night would bring, “okay?”

Jak leans back, cradling her face in his hands, melting and burning in the most pleasant way under her swirling, glittering gaze. “Okay.”

“Good.” She purred, hand trailing down his bask, slipping around the front to sink between his legs, voice honeyed and eager as she said, “now, are you going to take me home or what?”

**~~X~~**

Jak and Keira trip and stumble into the flat, frantic hands tug at clothing, trembling fingers loosening belts and armour, clumsy feet kick off shoes, leaving them abandoned where they lay. It’s hazardous moving through the darkened flat, Jak tears himself away to light lanterns, closing the curtains to keep out prying eyes before rushing back to Keira. He picks her up with ease, her legs wrap tightly around his waist, lips locking in a fervent kiss. His feet carry them towards the bed, hands roaming, slipping beneath clothing, seeking more.

Keira’s hands are in his hair, fingers grasping tightly as she rocks her hips against his. Jak sees stars, balance wavering as Keira repeats the motions. There's a delighted giggle in his ear, breath hot against his neck as teeth graze ever so gently into the soft flesh. He shivers at the sensation, slips a hand beneath the hem of Keira’s shirt to explore her fevered skin. Keira's hands leave his hair, lips leaving the skin they'd been worshipping as she shifts in Jak's hold, fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt.

The anxiety rises in a tidal wave that shatters the spell fast and hard, capsizing Jak in a churning black sea of panic. Desire fades to ember to ash, feet falter and stumble, muscles tense, body turning to ice. The dizzying, glittery night seeps away as lungs constrict and the room tilts and wilts. Old fears crawl out of the dark, insecurities slashing lust to ribbons. Suspended in fear, teetering on the edge of a panic attack, Jak musters all his strength and breathes. Breathes out the swell of raw emotions, the screaming voices that belittle and terrorise.

_Inhale, exhale, inhale._

It's not that Jak isn’t ready, because he is. Hell, they had only recently discussed having sex the other day, and with both in agreement that they were ready, it was decided that Keira would bring condoms when she came to Spargus, which are somewhere buried in the duffle bag of hers that Jak dropped off earlier in the evening. He wants this, Gods he wants Keira more than anything. But he’s terrified, is ashamed of the ugly secrets covering his skin.

He is a collection of scars, each left by cruel hands, inflicted out of punishment, forced medical procedures. His body is a canvas of twisted and gruesome scars that are a bitter reminder of the torment he endured. For a time, during the dark, winter days of recovery, Jak felt detached from his body, a ghost passing through a cold, grey world. It took months and months before Jak felt comfortable in his own skin, Daxter supported him through every day, Keira encouraged him with kind smiles and gentle words. It was a long, hellish journey, but eventually Jak was able to stitch his life back together.

Memories and scars faded as the seasons changed, self-hatred and anger chased away by the devotion of new and old friends. Body no longer ill-fitting, mind no longer spiralling had Jak finding a small slice of peace within himself. He could look in the mirror without an urge to smash the reflection staring back at him, could change his shirt in Daxter’s presence without feeling self-loathing churn in his stomach, though he angled away at first, moving quickly. Daxter never stared, never pushed the matter. Now, all those forgotten fears are screaming, darkening his mind with doubt, making the air tighten in his throat, a lump that can’t be dislodged.

“Jak?”

Keira’s voice calls to him, a light reaching into the dark to guide him back. The room slowly seeps back in, golden light, emerald eyes, a concerned smile, curtains fluttering in the breeze. Keira’s heart beats against his chest, steady compared to his war-drum beat. He sets her down, uncertain, _unsteady._

“Talk to me,” she pleaded.

“It’s…” the words gather like glass, working painfully up his throat. “I’m not… I’m not exactly easy to look at.”

Keira worries a kiss redden lip between her teeth, fidgets, head crooked to the side in a thoughtful gesture that is as familiar to Jak as breathing. A tense moment of silence stretches out between them, Jak’s heart pounds beneath his ribs, chest cold with panic, head spinning with maddening thoughts. Keira straightens, determination, _love_ , glistening in her gaze. With an air of courage, a spark of desire, Keira stripes off her top, unclasps her bar with practised ease then shimmies out of her cargo pants.

She kicks them aside, stands naked before Jak, vulnerable and beautiful. Troubled thoughts cease as logic and reason vanish, desire burns, simmers in every fibre and molecule of Jak’s being. Keira is trusting Jak with her body, is revealing her flaws, baring her soul. It’s a bold gesture done gracefully, has Jak’s heart skipping a beat, reignites the lust and scatters the doubt, the _fear_.

“Jak,” she takes his hand, placing it over her racing heart. “Is this okay?”

“Y… yes” he stammers, words tripping on his tongue as his gaze flickers from her face to her naked body, taking in pale skin flushed with arousal, scattered with moles and faint scars collected from jungle adventures and working too late into the night. “You’re beautiful.” Precursors, she looks like a Goddess made of stardust and iron.

“So, are you.” She closes the space between them, pressing every inch of exposed skin against his body. “Jak, I love you, scars and all,” she peers up at him, “but if you’re not ready to take this step or want to leave your clothes on then, that’s okay. We can do whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Jak melts under her touch, heat pooling in his stomach, confidence growing stronger under Keira’s affection. “I want to,” he replied, heat chasing the ice from his veins “I’m ready.”

He steps back, takes a breath that rattles through his chest, soothes the last tendrils of fear, and removes his shirt with one swift tug. It falls to the floor, heavy like a stone. Eyes fluttered closed against the sting of insecurity, arms subconsciously rising to cover himself. Firm but gentle fingers take hold of his wrists, circling the scars left by the shackles, silently encouraging Jak’s arms to his sides. A shaky breath escapes past his lips, eyes slowly opening to find Keira staring at his chest, a dozen emotions flickering across her face.

“They’re ugly,” he muttered bitterly, turning away from Keira’s heavy gaze.

“They’re not ugly Jak,” she vowed, voice unwavering. “You survived Jak, you don’t have to hide that.” Her words whisper over his skin, weave into his scars, sink into blood and bone, healing and cleansing. Keira’s touch is heavenly fire against his skin, nimble fingers delicately trace the curves of the rigid, purple scars that cover the width of his chest, fanning down his stomach like bolts of lightning. There is no horror or pity to be found in her emerald eyes, only love and devotion.

“Do they hurt?” her touch falters, eyes searching his face for a hint of pain.

“Not anymore,” he replied.

Keira nods to herself, seemingly lost in thought. “Go lie on the bed,” she ordered, lips curling into a seductive grin, “I’ll be right back.”

Jak hesitates a moment, watching Keira move through the dimly lit room towards the duffle that he left on the marble dining table. It's a lovely view, her skin glows in the golden light, shimmering in places from sweat. Pulling himself together, Jak quickly obeys Keira's request, deciding last minute to strip off his pants and underwear before climbing onto the bed. There is a flutter of nerves in his stomach, a jittery sensation like butterflies that hum with anticipation.

Eager, cock hardening, Jak positions himself on the bed, exposed entirely to the crisp night air and Keira’s lustful gaze. She saunters back to the bed, hips swaying in powerful, purposeful motion that make her breast jiggle. Shadows and light dance over Keira’s skin in as she slinks up the bed. Jak drinks her in, takes hold of her the moment she is close enough to pull in for a kiss, but she is slipping from his grasp all too quickly, trailing kisses down his throat, sinking down to his chest. Soft lips find scarred skin, kisses gentle and worshipping. Jak shivers, eyes fluttering closed as fingers curl into the bed covers.

Keira moves lower, lips ghosting over scars and skin, leaving a wet trail of devotion down, down, down until he can feel hot breath against his erection.

“Keira,” he breathes, voice hitched high in need. Gods he wants her to go lower, to feel those beautiful lips wrap around his throbbing cock.

She hums in reply, tongue swirling around the tip of his dick, mouth opening to take him in. Jak throws his head back, gasping as the heat envelopes him, shooting out to every inch of his body. Keira’s mouth is pure bliss. Hands tighten their hold on the sheets as Jak resists the urge to thrust into Keira’s mouth, not wanting to chock her or reach the end too soon. Which is going to happen embarrassingly fast if Keira keeps doing what she’s doing.

“Keir,” he moans, releasing the sheets to reach for her, quivering fingers tangling in silky strands of hair in a silent plea to stop.

She gazes up at through dark lashes, looking positively ravishing with her swollen lips wrapped around his cock. The sight sends a jolt straight to his dick, it twitches in Keira’s mouth, and it takes all Jak’s strength not to let her finish what she started. He won’t last though, and he yearns to feel himself inside her, to hold her in his arms as they make love. The message is clear, Keira releases him, wipes the sheen from her lips before crawling up the bed and pressing the condom packet into Jak’s hand.

Keira’s giving him control, trusting herself entirely to him.

Not caring where her mouths just been, Jak captures her lips in a heated kiss, fingers trailing down her body to travel places they’ve never been. Curious, eager to touch, to pleasure, Jak encourages Keira’s legs to part, allowing him room to a slip a hand between them. He strokes curiously at her soft folds, thumb stroking over her clit, familiarising himself with her most sensitive areas. When she moans, shudders, he repeats the motion, teasing and exploring until Keira’s kisses turn sloppy, body tensing and shivering beneath his touch.

Delighted, encouraged, Jak slips a finger inside. The sensation of Keira’s wet, silken heat shoots right through his finger to his pulsating dick, making sparks of pleasure burst throughout his entire nerves system. Keira opens for him with ease as he slips in another finger, twists them just enough to make her moan his name. Gods he wants, no _needs_ to bury himself inside her, feel this blissful tight heat wrap around his dick.

“Jak,” Keira pants, hips twitching and moving in jerky, unsteady motions in time with the trust of Jak’s fingers. “Jak, I’m ready, please.”

Without hesitation, Jak withdraws his fingers, wiping them on the covers as Keira groans it the loss of sensation. He chuckled at her, sparing her an apologetic glance before tearing open the condom packet and rolling it on over his cock. Keira watches through hooded eyes, legs opening wider in invitation. Grinning, cresting on the waves of lust, enticed by Keira’s beauty, Jak moves to settle over Keira’s body, fumbling a little as he positions himself hips between her legs.

Reaching down, he grasps his dick, keeping his gaze locked with Keira’s as he sinks into her waiting warmth. The sensation is even better then he imagined, has his eyes fluttering shut, breath hitching in a moan. Keira’s hands find his hair, strong, slender legs wrap tightly around his hips, forcing him in deeper, bodies becoming one. Jak opens his eyes, longing to see the pleasure dance through Keira’s eyes, to glance down and see how perfectly he fits inside her.

“Jak,” Keira encourages him with a barely-there kiss, a squeeze of legs and roll of hips.

Jak shifts above her, pulling out halfway before easing back in, figuring out the mechanics of this as he goes, confidence and speed increasing with each repeat of motion. It takes a few awkward moments to get the speed just right, Keira giggles around a moan and Jak ducks his head to hide in bury his face in her neck, laughing against her skin. Keira soothes him, rolling her hips up to meet his thrust in slow, slightly unsteady motions. Lifting his head, Jak finds Keira smiling up at him, pupils’ shimmering pools of lust and adoration.

Jak closes the space between them, taking her lips into his, tongue sweeping out to tease them open. She tastes like sweet summer fruit, moans loudly into his mouth, biting softly at his bottom lip as she tightens around his dick. There is still a sense of ungracefulness to the thrust of their hips, rhythm quickening as frantic energy wraps around them, pleasure building, escaping in cries and names whispered like prayers. They move as one; limbs entwined, skin fevered and shivering.

There is no beginning or end, they are joined in every way, finally whole.

Hips shutter and shake as pleasure coils in Jak’s stomach, Keira constricts around him, nails sinking into his shoulder blade as she throws her head back, teetering on the edge of climax. Jak increases the speed and force of thrusts, feels a burst of pure ecstasy spread from his stomach to his groin. They arrive together, names climbing up their throats, echoing in the night air. Jak collapses beside Keira spent and satisfied. Sweat cools on fevered skin, Keira half crawls on top of him, removing the condom from his flaccid dick, disposing it over the edge of the bed. Later Jak will have to pick up, collect a washcloth to clean the mess between their legs, for now, he is content to lay in Keira's arms, body sweat-soaked and pleasantly sore. 

"Jak?" Keira hums, propping herself up on an elbow and gazing down at him. "I was thinking… well," she bites her lip, eyes flickering from his face to the rumpled bed covers. 

"You're always thinking," Jak quipped, reaching out to tuck a strand of tangled aqua hair behind her ear.

Keira shoves him playfully, shaking her head fondly. "Well, what we just did certainly derailed any sound or reasonable thoughts." 

"I'll remember that," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Keira laughed, a sweet lyrical sound in the otherwise quiet night. It tapered off, expression sobering as she sighed pensively. "I was thinking, if you wanted me to, I'd like to stay here on a more permanent basis.” She placed a delicate hand over Jak's heart, fingers fanning out over the worst of the scars. “I'd still have to spend a fair amount of time in Haven, as there is a lot of work that needs doing, but-"

Jak silences her with a kiss, saying, "I was going to ask you the exact same thing."

"Oh." 

"I know Haven needs you, and that's okay, I'm happy just as long as I get to come home to you,” he admitted, chest swelling with something warm and electric, “or well, at least know that this will be your home." 

"Home is wherever you are Jak" she whispered, words sacred and treasured by the night, cherished and golden in Jak's heart. 

"Then, you'll always be home." They could travel across the seas to faraway lands, to the furthest corners of the galaxy, and as long as they had each other, they would always be at home. "But I'd still like for you to move in. I want to build a life with you and do more of this,” he runs teasing fingers up her leg. "Lots more." He winked seductively, luring her into his embrace with a charming smile. 

Keira curls into his warmth, head pillowed on his chest, right over his beating heart. "Ooh, we are definitely going to be having lots more sex in our future. For a fact, I think I might keep you here all weekend.” She bites playfully at his nipple; tongue sweeping out to tease at it until its hard. “I could ravish you until the world comes looking for us."

"Well, I'm not going to say no to that," he chuckled, lips curling into a grin at the thought of spending the next few days hidden away from the world, tangled together under the sheets. "So, what do you say, want to build a life together?"

Keira gives Jak’s chest one last teasing kiss, props herself up and turns to gaze at him with such love and intensity; it makes Jak’s heart skip a beat. "More than anything in the world." 

Jak beacons her closer, lips meeting in a kiss that feels like fire and ocean waves, full of burning passion and serenity, drowning them in love and something akin to magic. They kiss, entangle, explore and pleasure, repeat the dance but without all the steps. It’s thrilling and heavenly, takes the last of their energy and leaves them sluggish and blissed. The cold night air eventually forces them under the covers. Jak darts around the room, collecting what they need to clean themselves before slipping into bed, washcloth carelessly tossed aside until morning.

Content, cresting on the waves of fatigue, riding the coattails of his orgasm’s, Jak pulls Keira into his embrace as heavy lids close over tired eyes. He’s happy, is home, has bared his skin and scars, is bathing in the aftermath of his first time and falling asleep in the arms of the girl he loves. Everything is, at last, as it should be.


End file.
